


Overeager

by BetaFerret



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Trans Male Character, Trans Xigbar, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetaFerret/pseuds/BetaFerret
Summary: The shirt isn’t his, and that’s just fine.





	Overeager

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nortapologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nortapologist/gifts).



The shirt isn’t his, and that’s just fine. Xigbar stole it of course, but he’ll give it back  _ eventually _ . It pools around him comfortably, several sizes too large and stretched out with age and use,  _ delightfully _ smelling like it’s original owner when the collar is pulled up over his nose. The material is beaten soft, and feels  _ wonderful _ against his skin…

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of musk, sweat and petrichor, and lets his thighs part. His dick is  _ buzzing _ already just thinking about what he’s going to do, and Xigbar giggles to himself as he wiggles against the blankets and pillows piled on his bed. He licks his lips, running his hands down his sides and chest just to feel the brush and pull of the soft fabric over his nipples, his ribs, and sighs loudly. It’s so comfortable, he almost wants to fall asleep.

That changes the moment his hands find his lower belly, throbbing heat building swiftly.

He hikes the bottom of the shirt up, just enough to expose his hips and the tops of his thigh-high socks. An important look, and he laughs again while rubbing his palms over the bare skin at the top of his legs, the points of his hips, deliberately avoiding his dick and the wetness behind it for the moment. He doesn’t know when this will all pay off, he has to draw things out, as frustrating as it is for himself.

But it will be  _ so worth it _ .

Xigbar whines anyway as he teases the silky skin of his inner thighs, tugging at the top of one of his socks. It slips down past his knee when he lets go, and he doesn’t bother to pull it back up. 

It feels too good to crook his fingers and drag his nails across the skin and imagine it’s someone else touching him. He certainly hopes that will be the case soon enough, and he won’t have to pretend at all. His hands slip, skim his hairless mound and his fingertips brush his piercing, making him  _ jolt _ almost upright and moan loudly. He’s already wound up, and he flops back again with a gasp, rubbing his cock in slow circles. 

He doesn’t  _ really _ have to edge himself, does he? Xigbar wonders.

He can cum more than once; he can be wrecked and messy and it won’t change anything he tells himself, catching fabric between his teeth after a desperate moan. It smells like petrichor and sex now, and he arches while stroking the length of his cock. It would look so  _ pretty _ if someone could see it, but he’s still alone. 

Just for the moment. It can’t be much longer. He doesn’t  _ want _ it to be. He had been so  _ sure _ he could be patient before and just tease himself. Now he’s thrown the idea out and replaced it with enthusiasm, playing with the metal bar under his skin and whining at the intensity of it. Short strokes of his fingertips and well manicured nails, and he can almost pretend there’s sword callouses to grind against rather than trigger callous. Thick and strong, unyielding just like the rest of him--

He tosses and turns, grinding up into his own grip and  _ keening _ through the terrible gag of the shirt material. 

Too  _ eager _ . His orgasm is like a bolt from the blue, hitting him out of nowhere with enough force to knock his breath out, and  _ unsatisfying _ for teasing himself too much. He feels empty, twitchy and tense rather than relaxed and still buzzing. Craving  _ far more _ than he gave himself.

He groans with frustration, stroking himself again, and hears it  _ echoed _ from a far deeper voice.

Xigbar opens his eye (when did he  _ close _ it?) and finds the dim room illuminated by an open door, a tall,  _ broad _ figure blocking most of it. 

Back-lit, he can’t see the face, but he’s sure he knows that silhouette and Xigbar  _ grins _ , writhing a little demonstratively to show off himself and his outfit; the thigh high socks, the oversized shirt, and nothing else. How wet he is now and the boneless way he sprawls. It gets the reaction he was hoping for, a hissing breath drawn in through clenched teeth and something not unlike a growl.

Xigbar unclenches his hand from the shirt fabric, crooks his finger and beckons Lexaeus to come closer. He only hesitates for a moment, then enters the room and kicks the door shut behind him with his heel.

_ Perfect _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: The art finally went up on twitter so check out what inspired this fic [HERE](https://twitter.com/nortapologist/status/1149918054534516736)!!


End file.
